


Fourteen Quintants

by Ryzaphelle



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Altean Lance (Voltron), Galra Keith (Voltron), M/M, altean/galra au
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-02-18
Updated: 2017-07-02
Packaged: 2018-09-25 10:50:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 15,804
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9816593
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ryzaphelle/pseuds/Ryzaphelle
Summary: 10,000 years ago...When Lance almost dies due to an assassination attempt, Keith is charged with looking after the Altean Prince as tensions between species rise. With political discourse on the increase, sides must be taken as Lance is led to believe that the Galra are planning something big, his only worry is what side Keith will choose.Fourteen Quintants to fall in love, Fourteen Quintants for the universe to go into chaos.





	1. Day One

**Author's Note:**

> hooooooooooooooooooo my god
> 
> so i've been dabbling with this au for a long time and is quite possibly my favourite klance concept all in all  
> whether i'll be able to actually finish it is another story but i hope that i will!!!  
> now this au has probably been used so many times like tbh it's a popular concept so why the hell not? so i hope that this fic diverges from other fics and fanarts i've seen already and overall i'm really excited about this series!!!!
> 
> enjoy~

“Wow.”

“Is there something wrong?”

“Well, it’s not a very Galra name, is it? Doesn’t really strike fear either. “This is my bodyguard, a fearless warrior that can cut you down with a swing of his blade,  _ Keeiiith! _ ””

A pause.

“Your Highness, are you sure that your brother is qualified enough to contribute to this meeting?”

Lance could detect that the word “qualified” was codeword for “mature” but didn’t outwardly react to it. Instead, he filed it away for more reasons why Lance disliked the Galra; they were never truly candid.

He could see Allura’s eye twitch from where she was sat next to him, no doubt pissed that they were only one dobosh into the meeting and Lance had already insulted one of the participating members. Not like the Galran was actually participating considering that he was the emissary’s bodyguard. But he hung back and leaned against the wall, casting a dirty look at Lance as he crossed his arms.

The emissary, however, was sat opposite Lance and the Princess. He sat straight and true, a natural soldier and his hands were planted on the table in earnest. One of his arms, Lance noticed, was made of metal. He had introduced himself as “Shiro”, divulging no other information like a last name or military rank, only that he was an emissary sent by the Galra Command.

He was the one who had questioned Lance’s maturity following his honest interpretation of his bodyguard’s name.

“I assure you,” the Princess started after sighing. “After Coran, my brother is the best civil negotiator I know.” She said it with a tone of disappointment, but Lance could detect a compliment in there somewhere .

Shiro’s eyes flickered to lance again and he became hyper-aware that he wasn’t particularly sat in the most dignified manner. He slouched in his chair, feet propped up on the table, with his hands behind his head. While it was certainly an honour to work with his sister on official business, he’d admit that he was starting to show off.

Not really the best idea for a civil negotiation.

The bodyguard, Keith - Lance still couldn’t get over his name - piped up from behind Shiro, “Are you sure there aren’t better negotiators that you  _ don’t  _ know?” he asked bitterly. Either he was in a really bad mood or Lance’s comment hit harder than intended.

Lance scrunched up his nose. This Keith guy seemed to piss him off, and he didn’t know why. Maybe it was his stupid mullet? (Who even had mullets?) Or maybe it was the permanent frown on his face that said “touch me and you die.” Perhaps it was the fact that his personality was too sour for the great body he had. Lance would admit that his eyes had found themselves drifting towards the suited Galran. He wasn’t armour-clad like Shiro was, suggesting that he was deadly in all kinds of ways - not just brute strength.

“Aren’t there any other bodyguards who can take a joke and aren’t named Keith?” Lance countered, dropping his feet from the table to sit up properly.

Allura started to shake with repressed rage, Shiro arched a brow, and Keith had pushed off the wall and looked just about ready to launch himself over the table. Swallowing her annoyance, Allura intercepted before a fight broke out. She got up and dragged him towards the door, hissing, “Lance, get the quiznak out of this meeting before I hit you upside the head so hard you go comatose.”

“B-but, Allura, I-” he started.

She poked his chest, hard. “I  _ pleaded  _ with our parents to let you in. I wasn’t going to settle for some chump because Coran is off ill. You abused that, Lance, now get out.”

The door slid open and Allura shoved him out into the corridor.

Lance started babbling excuses again but Allura shut him up with one last dirty look before the door slammed shut. Pouting, he kicked the door and shoved his hands in his pockets. This was Lance’s first real negotiation with the Galra (one as serious as this anyway) and he’d screwed it up! For what? Because he made fun of some purple-skinned punk with a mullet?

Well, when he thought of it like that...

He let out a long dramatic sigh and turned his back on the board room, gazing at the long glass hallway before him. The sun was still high in the sky so the world was still brightly lit and a prism-like effect was cast onto the white floor beneath his booted feet.

Hands still in his pockets, Lance started to head down the corridor. He took three steps when the door opened again and someone started cursing. When he turned, he was surprised to see Keith getting thrown out by Shiro. 

Once he recovered and dusted himself off, his eyes found Lance watching him curiously and he scowled. Without a word Keith barged past him, knocking Lance’s shoulder on the way.

He watched him go, but couldn’t help but ask, “What did you get tossed out for?”

Keith continued to stalk down the corridor, and Lance scowled, he didn’t like to be ignored.

Pacing to catch up, Lance called after him. “Hey! I was  _ talking _ to you!” 

Still no answer.

“Why are you so dark and broody, huh?” he teased as he fell into step with Keith. “Does the concept of happiness not exist to you Galrans?” Without any acknowledgement from the bodyguard, he continued to annoy Keith, thinking of nothing better to do. “You know, I’d like to go to a Galra planet some day, what’re they like? They seem very dark with lots of purples and reds, who came up with that colour scheme? Can Galrans even  _ see  _ colour? Is that why Galrans are never happy? Because they can’t see colours? I think I’d be pretty unhappy if I couldn’t see colour, like,  _ really  _ unhapp-”

One moment he’s rambling, the next, Lance was pushed up against the glass with Keith holding a knife to his throat. 

He smirked.

“If you don’t shut up, I’ll sever your vocal chords,” Keith grit out. His sharp teeth were bared in a snarl and his yellow eyes glared at Lance in rage.

Lance scoffed. “Oh yeah, sure, kill an Altean Prince and start a war, wow, good plan,” he said dryly.

Keith’s lips upturned slightly, the subtlest of smirks. “Who said anything about killing you?” he taunted, pushing the tip of his knife into Lance’s skin.

He shrugged. “Pretty sure the only way to get me to shut up is to kill me. Lose-lose situation.” While he acted cool, Lance’s heart was beating rapidly in his chest. The threat was still real.

After what felt like forever, Keith relented and let Lance go with a quiet growl. “Just stay away from me,” he warned, sheathing his blade and giving Lance a long stare before setting off down the hall again.

As Lance watched him go, he pouted. He should probably let this one go, heed the Galran’s will, but something nagged at him - as if their story wasn’t quite finished yet.

But maybe Lance was being too sappy - his family always groaned at how he loved attention. Being shut down and ignored like this just fueled his curiosity, and he had a feeling he’d meet Keith again.

~

Lance liked to distract himself more than he liked to face his problems.

So that’s what he was doing right now.

He’d spent the day tying up odds and ends - just two vargas ago he’d had a tutoring session, he’d tried and failed to pick up a date at a local club, and now he was mooching around the market place.

It reminded him of a swap meet - but he knew that the Unulu were much more crafty about their deals. Altean markets were a lot more peaceful yet still haphazard in their layouts. Stalls were dotted all about the place, selling different trinkets and sparkly things, Lance pretended to be interested as he made his way throughout the market.

While it  _ was  _ an Altean market, a lot of different species and lifeforms visited the stalls too - Galra, Alkari, Bulmerans, and so many other species alike traded and conversed in this very market. Lance marvelled at the harmony of it all.

Yet he came here for a purpose, and he revelled in the looks of awe, the blushes and flustered speech that he received from a few market-goers he passed.

Despite all the attention, however, Lance still felt bored. He wanted to talk with Allura but his sister was still in that meeting with the Galran emissary. Why did they have to take so long? What kind of meeting lasted almost a full quintant?

Lance huffed his frustration and scowled into the distance. His state of annoyance was only interrupted by the growl of his stomach as his nose caught a whiff of some delicious food. Turning his head, he found a stall decorated with different bowls of goo, ranging in all types of colours. He realised that he hadn’t had lunch earlier and thought it best to eat at least something before the sun went dow-

“WATCH OUT!”

With a painful jolt, Lance was forced to the ground and his eyes were drawn to the bright purple beam heading right towards him.

But a shadowy figure stepped between them, brandishing a large blade that deflected the attack. With a grunt, the figure blocked the shot and reached for a knife at their hip, throwing it towards another figure on a balcony a few stories up. The dagger hit them square in the chest and they collapsed over the railing with the gun they had used to shoot at Lance.

Lance blinked. Still on the floor, he attempted to comprehend what had happened.

Someone had tried to kill him?

And someone had saved him.

He looked up to his saviour, their back to him so he couldn’t see their face - but Lance could recognise that mullet anywhere.

Keith had saved him - Lance didn’t know why but that fact was still true.

His saviour turned around and started to speak, “Hey, are you…” he trailed off when he recognised that it was Lance. “Ugh, it’s you.”

“I am hurt, Keith.  _ Hurt. _ ” Lance replied, pouting, before picking himself up and dusting himself off. “You saved my life and I am hurt that you think “ugh, it’s you” is an acceptable statement to accompany your actions,” he chastised as he crossed his arms, fully aware of the crowd that was gathered for the spectacle of an Altean Prince almost dying.

Keith sighed and sheathed his blade at his back. “Look, if I’d had known it was you, I wouldn’t have helped.”

“That doesn’t make it any better!” Lance scoffed then threw his arms in the way. “You know what, I’m getting out of here. Thanks for nothing,  _ mullet _ !” he spat as he turned and strode away, the crowd parting as he did so.

~

Keith watched the prince leave, a scowl on his face. 

When he saw the flash of light from the nearby balcony, he’d just acted - impulse from his training. He hadn’t seen the blue robes, the golden crown, those pointy ears. He hadn’t seen Lance’s bright blue eyes as they widened with shock and fear, hadn’t seen his mouth as it opened wide in a breathless scream.

Or at least that’s what he told himself.


	2. Day Two

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> phew and chapter two is done! i hope you all enjoy this one as it just flew out of my brain and i have BIG plans for this series
> 
> BIG plans
> 
> so here is day two of fourteen,  
> enjoy~

The large white doors opened onto the throne room. Everything was so white Keith had to squint, his eyes sensitive to the light, and he stepped cautiously into the room. Needless to say he felt both threatened and othered by the presence of guards at his side. Not that they were a hindrance anyway.

Earlier that morning Keith had been approached by Shiro who had first reprimanded him on his behaviour in yesterday’s meeting, then informed him that the Altean monarchy wished to speak with him. Whatever about, Keith was unsure, so he’d taken as many blades as he could hide in his suit and left the embassy he and Shiro were currently occupying.

However, when he’d stepped from the doors, he’d found the Altean Guard already waiting for him outside with a transport pod. The ride to the palace was silent and awkward. Keith made sure that his glares would keep the guards from conversing with him. And that they did.

So now Keith stood before three thrones. On each sat a member of the Altean monarchy; King Alfor, Crown Princess Allura, and Prince Lance. The first two were sat upright, every bit the title they held whereas the latter was slouched with his head propped against his fist, elbow against the arm of the throne.

“Keith Kogane,” the King spoke. 

Keith hated his name, Lance had been right when he said it wasn’t Galran.

He nodded his head to the King in acknowledgement.

Alfor stepped from his throne and descended the dais to come to a stop before Keith, and the boy didn’t know what to expect, he’d never been in his presence before now. Then the King stuck out his arm and Keith looked down to it as Alfor spoke again. “I wanted to personally thank you,” he said with a genuine smile.

Keith met his eyes, confusion evident on his face.

“For saving my son,” he reminded.

“Oh, that,” Keith replied, eyes skipping to Lance who was still brooding on his throne. “Uh, you’re welcome,” he added and clasped the King’s forearm.

Alfor towered over him, yet it wasn’t in a threatening way, and he looked down to Keith with a certain type of respect and genuine appreciation for what he had done for the Prince.  When Keith moved to let go, however, the King did not. In fact, he pulled him closer when his gaze flickered to Keith’s hip.

“I’m beginning to feel a rise in tension between us and the Galra that I’d like to settle,” the King said in low tone, so only he and Keith could hear. “We reclaimed the body of the assassin that had tried to kill my son and we found that they belonged to the Blade of Marmora.” Keith tried hard not to flinch. “That dagger at your side is one of theirs,” the King accused. “What is your agenda with my son?”

Keith found his eyes wandering to Lance again. The Prince had perked up in curiosity as he looked for Keith, to his father, to his sister who sneered in Keith’s direction.

Eyebrows lowering, Keith looked into Alfor’s eyes and hissed, “I have no agenda with your son, and I’m not connected to the Blade anymore, so you can stop worrying that pretty white head of yours, your Majesty.” Keith took his hand back and kept his stare on the King as he said, his voice rising, “Did you really summon me here to thank me? Or was it just to accuse me of working with rebels to assassinate your son?”

“No, I  _ am _ thankful,” Alfor replied. “But I cannot trust a highly-trained assassin with my son’s life and not think he has other motives.”

Keith’s eyes widened. How did he-?

The King began to smile to confirm that he knew Keith’s secret but the sound of the doors opening drew everyone’s attention to the Galra who had just entered.

“That is  _ exactly _ why you should trust Keith, your Majesty,” Shiro said as he walked to where Keith and the King stood. “What other motives would he have had last night when he saved your son? He saw someone in danger and he acted - it  _ is  _ his job in being my bodyguard. We both happened to be in the market when his Highness’s life had been threatened. I see no other motive in that, your Majesty.”

Alfor regarded them both with skepticism, then grit out, “Do you have a point, emissary?”

Shiro placed his hand on Keith’s shoulder and he was glad it wasn’t the metal one that always gave him chills. “Since an attempt has already been made on Prince Lance’s life, I propose we assign a bodyguard for him - perhaps one for your daughter as well.”

“I was going to keep them here,” Alfor countered, “until I knew they would be safe outside.” Lance and Allura started to protest, but they were silenced by a wave of their father’s hand. “This is not up for debate, childr-.”

“I suggest Keith to guard your heirs,” Shiro cut in.

Keith looked over to Shiro in surprise, and started to shake his head.

“Why can’t I use my own guards?” Alfor argued, seeming to be annoyed that a Galran was bossing him around.

“Altea is a planet of peace,” Shiro persuaded, using that charm Keith knew all too well. “When was the last time a member of the royal family needed to be guarded from threats? A long time. They simply aren’t trained for this task. This is why I suggest Keith.”

There was a silence as King Alfor considered the pros and cons of hiring a Galran to guard the Prince and Princess. 

Then a loud “You can’t be serious!?” broke that silence.

Lance had stood from his throne and had placed his hands on his hips, a scowl on his face. “I don’t want my movements to be watched twenty-four/seven, dad! Least of all by him!” he pointed a finger at Keith.

“Enough, Lance, this isn’t your decision to make,” Alfor chastised.

“Uh,  _ I  _ was the one who almost got killed yesterday, it  _ should  _ be my decision,” Lance countered.

Alfor looked extremely close to losing all composition. “Fine, name someone better for the job!”

Lance stood there for a moment, hands fisted at his sides, a scowl aimed at his father as he failed to name a better bodyguard. He side-glanced his sister, hissing, “Allura, help me!”

The Princess merely folded her arms and gave him a knowing look. “It’s what’s best for you, Lance,” she said. “It’s either this or a few months or years or whatever cooped up in this castle.” She shrugged. “Besides, won’t you like the attention of a doting guard?”

“I’m not going to be doting,  _ your Highness, _ ” Keith said in a mocking tone, his arms folded over his chest.

“Shut your quiznak, I haven’t even decided if I want you yet,” Lance shouted back, then added, “as a bodyguard.”

The Princess sighed. “Just agree to it, Lance, or I’ll assassinate you myself.”

Lance stood there pouting again, and after a long, hard stare at the floor he forced out a “Fine! But know that I’ll be hating it the entire time.”

“Right back at ya,” Keith spat, trying to remember when he actually agreed to this.

~

When they got back to the embassy, Keith almost exploded.

“Why would you force me to do that, Shiro? I don’t understand. My contract said to protect  _ you,  _ not some frilly Prince who lacks proper brains!”

Keith was pacing the floor, practically wearing a line into the polished marble of the sitting room. (Why was everything so white?) Shiro, on the other hand, looked at ease as he relaxed into the couch, looking so out of place against the Altean design.

The emissary regarded Keith with a disapproving look. “Now that’s the kind of attitude that got you thrown out of the meeting yesterday. You should know better than to insult the Princess’s brother right to her face.”

“I don’t care, Shiro,” Keith countered. “I’m not going to babysit a spoiled Prince ‘cause some rebel got trigger happy.”

With a tut tut, Shiro shook his head at his assigned bodyguard. “I thought you were smarter than this. Since when have the Blade of Marmora ever used guns?”

That had Keith stopping in his tracks. His head slowly turned to meet Shiro’s gaze, and with a cautious whisper, he said, “The assassin was one of us…”

Shiro smirked. “Bingo.”

“I don’t understand, Shiro,” Keith said, his voice beginning to rise. “We’ve been here two days and you already want to start…” he trailed off again. 

“The negotiations are a ruse.”

“What? I don’t-”

“Why else would I choose one of the Galra’s best assassins to be my bodyguard?” Shiro asked, getting up from the couch. He paced around Keith as the bodyguard tried to make sense of what was going on. “I realise now we should have informed you of your actual mission earlier. However, we didn’t know if we could trust you with this task yet,” he confessed coming to a stop at Keith’s side before placing his hand, the metal one, on Keith’s shoulder. He refused to flinch from the cold. 

“I know I can trust you, Keith,” Shiro continued, but then his voice dropped lower, and Keith could feel his gaze burning into his flesh, “because if you don’t perform this task, I will throw you at Zarkon’s feet myself and watch him punish you for being a traitor and rebel sympathiser.

“Do you understand me?” Shiro threatened in that low, collected voice of his.

“Yes,” Keith said quietly, paralysed.

“What was that?” Shiro asked, hand tightening on Keith’s shoulder.

Keith took in a deep breath. “Yes, Shiro,” he grit out.

Shiro left the assassin there, in the middle of the sitting room, trembling.

After a while, Keith forced himself to stop and took another deep breath. He was an assassin, this was what he did all the time; kill to benefit the Galra Empire.

So why did he have a horrible feeling in the pit of his stomach?

~

Keith knelt before the screen as King Zarkon appeared.

“Why have you called me?” the King boomed.

The room was dark save for the illumination of the screen. Shiro had locked down the communications room as soon as they got to the embassy, they didn’t want any Alteans snooping into their plans.

Keith stayed on his knee but lifted his head to address the King on the other side of the screen. “Agent Kogane reporting, your Majesty. I have been informed of my task here on Altea, when do you want the job completed by?”

“However long it takes,” the King commanded, which meant as soon as possible.

Keith nodded, and the transmission was cut.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading guys! Kudos and comments are appreciated!
> 
> You can find me on Tumblr @ryzaphelle and I update fics every weekend~
> 
> Thanks,  
> Rae x


	3. Day Three

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so this chapter didn't go the way i expected it to but i hope you all enjoy it nonetheless
> 
> as from the series plan nothing really has changed too much it just all seems a bit darker than what i had planned before so pre-warning for future klangst ;)
> 
> enjoy~

Lance studied the glass of water set before him, scrutinising it as he would his nails.

“Aren’t you supposed to drink it?” he asked his companion, sitting upright to regard his new bodyguard sat a couple of tables over.

The figure dressed in all black with a few splashes of purple and deep red looked up from the napkin he was trying to fold artistically. “What?” Keith asked, getting annoyed - just like any other time Lance spoke.

“Isn’t it your job to, I don’t know, test it? For poison?” Lance asked, poking the glass. The waiter had come by with it ten doboshes ago and Lance had been debating whether to take a sip or not. Since his scrape with death yesterday, it would be an understatement to say that he was on edge. No, he was filled to the brim with anxiety.

Keith looked at him with a confused and pissed expression. “It’s just water.”

“But how do you know that!?” Lance worried. “What if a single drop has enough toxins in it to burn my body from the inside out, leaving me as a gross puddle of flesh and bone!?”

Keith sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. “If you don’t shut up I’ll throw that glass of water right in your pretty face. Then you definitely won’t get a date.”

Grumbling under his breath, Lance crossed his arms and pouted. “I’ll have you know that Krisea was very interested in me, maybe she’s just running late,” he said haughtily, but while Lance radiated his confidence on the matter of his missing date for the day, he knew deep down that the girl from the club yesterday would not be showing.

Then an idea struck. “Did you kill her!?”

That had Keith shaken. “What? No!”

Lance smirked, getting up from his lonely table with the (supposed) poison water to come sit opposite Keith. “Oh, I just thought you’d kill her in case she was a threat,” he suggested, leaning his elbows on the table and lacing his fingers, resting his chin atop them.

Keith watched the Prince for a long time, and Lance suddenly felt compelled to look away, his bodyguard’s stare proving too much, too...intimate. Then Keith spoke dismissively, “Nope, I’m pretty sure she’s just not into you.”

Lance’s face fell. “But I reserved this entire restaurant just for her!” he exclaimed, throwing his arm out towards the empty restaurant around them. Suddenly discontented, he collapsed onto the table. “What am I gonna do now?”

“Go home,” Keith offered monotonously, returning to his napkin origami.

Lance sighed and stood, picking up the menu from a nearby table. He scanned it before saying, “I’m gonna order some food. What do you want?”

“To be as far, far away from you as possible,” Keith said with a scowl.

Snorting, Lance tossed a “Grey goo for you then,” over his shoulder as he walked up to the waiters at the counter.

“Hey,” he winked as he approached them, leaning against the counter. “So it turns out my date sto-” Lance thought carefully about what he was going to say and realised that “stood me up” would probably harm his reputation, “Can’t make it!” he excused. “Due to unforeseen circumstances, yeah. She, uh, got stuck in the rain.”

One waitress regarded Lance with confusion whilst the other looked outside where the sky was clear. Not bothering to press it further, they both shrugged and listened to Lance as he started speaking again.

“But, you know, I didn’t want to be _that guy_ who books up a whole restaurant and doesn’t use it, soooooo…” Lance trailed off as he studied the menu for a moment. “My purple frenemy and I will take one of everything, please and thank you.” He punctuated this statement with a grin and a wink.

~

“What the quiznak is this?” Keith asked, disgusted as he prodded the mass of food on his plate.

Lance banged the table. “Language, Keith! We’re in a restaurant!” Then he proceeded to shove a forkful of food goo into his mouth. With a sigh of pleasure, Lance swallowed and said, “And that, my violet companion, is some premium food goo - just try it.”

Keith looked skeptically from Lance to the grey goo infront of him, scrunching up his nose. “It looks disgusting.”

Scowling, Lance replied, “Fine, what do you Galran’s eat then?” Then his expression became inquisitive. “I’ve actually never seen a Galran eat before, though. Do you guys even eat food? Or eat at all?”

“Yes, we eat!” Keith snarled, interrupting Lance’s gradual break down. “But not this...slop.”

Lance pouted. “It’s not slop. But if you won’t eat it,” he said as he reached over the table to gasp Keith’s spoon, “I will shove it in your mouth until you do.” He scooped up a spoonful and waved it around Keith’s face. “Eat it,” he commanded.

At first, Keith looked confused, then disgusted, then annoyed. He batted the spoon away with a grunt.

“Hey, come on!” Lance exclaimed, shoving the spoon back in his face. “Don’t knock it ‘til you’ve tried it.”

But Keith knocked it.

“Here comes the spaceship- Ow!”

Lance recovered from Keith’s swipe and rubbed his wrist where a redness had begun to form. Keith sat back in this chair and folded his arms over his chest, and Lance allowed himself to consider his new bodyguard for a moment. He was very lean for someone who was supposed to impose strength to ward off threats, but Keith achieved that through his dark stare and downturned mouth. In this position, every part of him radiated hostility - yet Lance was not deterred. If anything, he was more intrigued by Keith, wanting to get to know him more.

Picking the spoon back up, Lance trust it back into Keith’s personal space and playfully warned, “Don’t make me order you.”

Keith took one look at the spoon then scowled even more. In a flash, the piece of cutlery had been thrown across the room, the plates discarded from the table and Lance’s face pressed down on the tables surface.

“What is wrong with you?” Keith snarled. “Nothing about you makes any sense!”

Lance grunted in objection, but was silenced as Keith continued.

“Can you not see when someone can’t stand you? Is that why you keep arranging dates for people who won’t even show up?”

The jab was like a knife through the gut.

“I don’t want to play some stupid game with you, _your Highness_ ,” he spat, and Lance couldn’t see Keith’s face but he imagined his gaze burning his way into Lance’s skin. “I didn’t even want this job, but your dad made me babysit his annoying little son. So just run back to your castle and find someone else to be your bodyguard.”

With that, the pressure was taken away from Lance’s body as Keith stormed out of the restaurant. The Prince didn’t really know how to feel now. He imagined himself made of glass, several cracks disfiguring his body, cruel jagged lines threatening him with their inevitable shattering. Every lash of Keith’s words stung and wept - as if he hadn’t tried to harden himself against those types of insults his whole life. Lance hadn’t even known Keith three days.

So why did it hurt so much?

The rejection.

That word.

Annoying.

It made lance miserable as he lowered himself back into his chair. He stared at the mess that he and Keith had made, suddenly apologetic for the cleaning staff as one of the waitresses came over in a hurry.

“Your Highness!” they cried. “Are you okay? Do you want us to call the law enforcers?”

“Yeah...yeah…” Lance muttered distantly. “I’m...fine. I’ll help you clean up.” At this, he offered a small smile.

It was the only happy gesture he could muster at that moment.

~

The door slammed shut.

“Find another assassin, Shiro, my cover’s been blown,” Keith proclaimed monotonously as he headed straight for the stairs.

Shiro was there in an instant, blocking his path. “What did you do, Keith?” he grit out, gradually getting more angry as Keith’s proclamation registered.

Keith didn’t answer for a while, looking anywhere but Shiro’s blazing eyes. “I attacked the Prince.”

Forcing himself to hold his ground, Keith expected his superior to lash out, to shove him up against the wall with a fist around Keith’s neck. But Shiro only spoke with a calm but dangerous tone. “Why would you do that?”

“He got on my nerves-”

“That’s why you blew your cover!?” Shiro cut in, voice rising. “Because some Altean brat _got on your nerves_!?”

Keith didn’t answer and hardened his gaze, ducking around Shiro to race upstairs. But his voice followed Keith as he ran.

“You can’t run from this, Keith! You will kill Lance of Altea or you will be at the mercy of our Emperor!”

As soon as Keith made it into the room he had been sleeping in these past couple of days, the door slammed behind him. He made sure to lock it before falling against it, sliding down onto the floor. Attempting to calm his breathing, Keith made to punch the door but thought better of it.

He’d messed up, and that mistake could mean death if he didn’t fix things with Lance. He didn’t know why he blew up like he did, pinning the Prince to the table and snarling those horrible things. He just felt so confused as of late.

He’d killed so many before, without mercy, without hesitation. It was what he had been made into; an assassin, a killer, a monster without feeling or remorse.

But he knew, sitting on the floor up against a door that separated himself from a person who could easily brand Keith as a traitor, that he just could not kill the Prince of Altea.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so much for reading, comments and kudos are appreciated!
> 
> I update fics every weekend and you can find me on Tumblr @ryzaphelle!
> 
> Thank you for the support on the previous chapter,  
> Rae~


	4. Day Four

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey everyone! thanks so much for the notes on the previous chapter, it really makes my day  
> as for this chapter i hope you enjoy this one and it took a long time for me to write as i wasn't really in the right mindset at first but the words came more freely after the bump in the road so i hope this comes across in my writing!  
> as for future chapters, i might not post them every weekend as i have other fics i'm writing too, plus the fact that exam season is coming up soon and i might be MIA until my exams are over
> 
> anyways, i hope you like this chapters and the many more that will come  
> enjoy~

 

Lance didn’t get up at his usual time that morning, his missed his tutoring session as well, not clambering out of bed until noon.

That night he hadn’t even had the energy to shower and put on his sleeping mask, instead stripping out of his royal garb and falling straight into bed. Now he barely got up, slumping down onto the floor and letting the cool tiling of his bedroom floor give him a cold shock. This spurred him back into action (though he was still weary) and he padded towards the bathroom that neighboured his sleeping chambers.

Once in the shower, he let the water run over him. It felt natural and he was put at ease as it cascaded around him, feeling as though he wasn’t Lance, Prince of Altea, and in fact somewhere else where he just... _ was.  _ It was an odd feeling, yet it served its purpose of bringing Lance back to himself.

Finally certain that he could put a smile back on his face, Lance stepped out of the shower and dried himself off, padding back towards his bedroom. He rummaged through his wardrobe, trying to find an outfit that would make him feel better. Sadly, all of the outfits he picked out just didn’t have that spark that he needed...wanted.

Maybe he could just prance around in his pyjamas all day.

But, no, he needed to see his mother.

Scrunching up his nose, Lance reached for an outfit at the back of the closet. It was sealed in a plastic coating to ward off dust, and it had not been touched in two years. Lance wasn’t even sure if his sixteenth birthday robes would even fit him as he pulled them out of the closet and then out of the plastic sheeting. They were simple and non-complex compared to what Lance wore on a daily basis, but they were a ceremonial white with decals of gold, pink and blue. The cape that wrapped around his shoulders was a shimmering sapphire that trailed like a waterfall in his wake.

Yes, there was no way that he wasn’t going to wear this today.

As he pulled the garments on, he was surprised that they still fit. The trousers were a bit of a stretch over his long legs but it wasn’t as if his now exposed ankles couldn’t be covered by his shiny boots. Once he slipped those on too, he stood to admire himself in the full length mirror. He was starting to feel a lot better about himself, starting to forget that yesterday even happened.

Except…

_ Ah! _

He retrieved his crown from where it had been discarded on the floor and brought it up to his head. The gold shone in amongst the brown locks of his hair, and he reminded himself that he was a Prince and that the petty opinions of a Galra bodyguard are of no significance.

Lance turned away from the mirror and left his room. Now, walking the halls of the castle, he felt slightly more self-conscious for wearing two year old clothes, and ceremonial robes at that, but he pressed on, heading for the south-west wing of the castle.

He didn’t know if his mother would be there, but she never strayed too far from her duty, from her lion.

When he reached the south-west wing, home of the guardian of the water, he indeed found his mother there.

She danced around the great blue lion that occupied the hangar, floating on a hoverboard as she held a bucket of water in one hand and a soggy cloth in the other. She sang as she worked, throwing water onto Blue’s hull and then polishing it with the cloth. Normally, this was a task that would take ages but several of her assistants were helping out as well as they scrubbed the bottom of the lion while Lance’s mother, Veela the Princess Consort, floated around the top.

“Hey, Ma,” Lance greeted, slightly nervous. “What’cha doin’?”

Veela turned around and pulled the goggles from over her eyes. “Lance!” she shouted and hovered down to his level. “Blue was in need of a wash,” she explained and jutted a thumb to the lion behind her. Then she stepped from her hoverboard and dumped the bucket and cloth on the floor and swept her son into a big hug. “Look at you! You’ve gotten so big!” she enthused.

“You saw me last week, Ma,” Lance countered but accepted the hug all the same. She was only a little taller than him but Lance still felt very small in a nostalgic sense, as if being taken back to a time when his biggest problem was fighting his mother for more desserts rather than now where there were people out to kill him.

They both pulled away and Veela held him at arm’s length. She had a warm smile on her face as she gazed at him. Between his parents, Lance looked most like his mother and less like Alfor. He had her warm brown skin that was dusted with freckles and her lanky posture, her long straight nose and pointed chin. Above all, he had her kind blue-brown eyes that now regarded him with that motherly appreciation. Then her eyes travelled to his attire, and her face twisted into a mocking grin.

“What are you wearing, sweetie?” she snorted.

Lance sighed, but a small smile touched his lips. “I’m not really having a good day,” he said defeatedly.

“I can see that,” Veela replied, looping his arm with hers to lead him towards the blue lion. The beast responded immediately and the crew helping to clean it suddenly stumbled back as the lion crouched down and opened its metal jaws.

Lance looked up at it wearily. In the several years that Voltron had been operational and Veela had been the blue paladin, Lance rarely accompanied his mother in it. This would probably be the fifth time he’d step into it.

Veela took her son’s hand and turned back to him as he eyed the metallic beast with a cautious gaze. “Come on,” she cooed. “She won’t bite you.”

Lance relented but still replied, “You say that as we’re about to enter through its- her mouth.”

He followed his mother into the lion’s jaws until they reached the cockpit. In Veela’s presence, the dashboard lit up and glowed with blue light. Even if she wasn’t in her paladin armour, Lance’s mother looked very much at home here - like she belonged there.

“I like to do most of my thinking here,” Veela spoke as she sat down in her chair. She started fiddling around with the controls, checking diagnostics and primary systems, as she continued to speak. “Like the water, Blue likes to listen. She offers advice here and there but sometimes if I just ramble for a few minutes, I’ll come across the answer myself.”

As his mother spoke, Lance had been inspecting the cockpit, sometimes curiously prodding buttons and studying the information that popped up on the screens. But before he could push another button, Veela pinched him and he yelped.

“Didn’t you father ever tell you to listen to your mother when she’d speaking?” she chastised, scowling at him as he smiled sheepishly.

“Dad doesn’t really tell me anything,” Lance shrugged and returned to his inspection. “He’s either too busy being a king, or tutoring Allura, or piloting the yellow lion.” He let out a little sigh at that as he came to sit on the arm of Veela’s chair. “It’s a boring life,” he admitted, “being the second prince.”

Lance didn’t notice the small smile that touched Veela’s mouth as she continued to play about with the controls. She wasn’t actually doing anything though, pretending to be busy while Lance continued to talk.

“But it wasn’t all boring, though,” he kept on. “A few days ago I met this boy and he saved me from getting shot-”

Veela halted at that and looked at her son with confused, wide eyes. “You were shot?” she whispered.

He met her gaze and frantically said, “No no no no, I’m fine, Ma! As I said, this guy saved me-”

“But there are people out to kill you!? But why?”

“I don’t know,” Lance said, shaking his head and he took Veela’s hands in his, reassuring her that he was alright. “But after that, the guy who saved me - who also happened to be a bodyguard - was assigned to protect me outside of the castle…”

Lance drifted off and his gaze became unfocused as he relived the painful memories from yesterday. 

“I’m sensing a ‘but,’” Veela spoke. “What happened?”

“I pissed him off,” Lance relented after a while. “So he left me, and I doubt dad will let me out of the castle now that he’s gone.”

“How do you know that your bodyguard won’t come back?” Veela asked.

“He seemed very mad when he left me yesterday,” Lance answered. “He got annoyed when I tried to get him to eat some food at a restaurant and he pinned me to the table. It’s understandable, though...I know I can be too annoying sometimes-”

“Don’t say that, Lance,” Veela interrupted sternly. “What he did was obviously a problem with him and not with you. Don’t think that being who you are warrants getting hurt by someone else.”

Lance stayed silent after that. His mind going all sorts of places as his mother squeezed his hand and returned to her work.

Finally, he spoke again. “That doesn’t change the fact that he’s not coming back and I probably won’t be allowed back out of the castle again.”

“Have you told anyone else about what happened?” his mother asked.

“No,” Lance replied. “I haven’t really gotten the chance to.”

“Well then. Let’s go out. Right now.” Veela stood from her chair and headed for the exit while Lance merely stood there confusedly.

“Ma, what are you doing?” he asked.

“Taking you out on the town, what else would I be doing?”

“But we don’t have any guards? What if someone tries to kill me again?”

Veela simply turned back around and regarded her son with a smirk. “Honey, have you forgotten that you’re talking to one of Altea’s best sharp shooters?” With that he retrieved her bayard from her belt and activated it into the form of a pistol.

“That’s so cool,” Lance whispered, running after his mother as she exited her lion.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you so much for reading! kudos and comments are appreciated!
> 
> i update fics every weekend and you can follow my tumblr @ryzaphelle
> 
> thanks,  
> Rae~


	5. Day Five

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> wowowowowow the notes for this fic has really blown up so thank you so much for reading! reading your comments really makes me smile and keeps me going with this series!!!  
> again here's a warning that over the next few weeks i might not update as regularly due to exam season but i really hope i can because this series is so interesting for me and i really want to see it through the end!!  
> anyways i hope you enjoy this chapter as it helped get the ball rolling and just allowed me the payoff i built through the other chapters  
> enjoy~

He met him in the entryway.

Keith looked so out of place with his dark uniform of purples and reds, the rest of the white room shining bright around him - like a stain on a crisp white sheet.

A stain on Lance’s mood.

His face had fallen into a scowl when he had been told that the bodyguard was here to see him. His tutor didn’t really know what to think as the boy stomped out of the castle’s library and to the entryway where the other boy stood.

Lance regarded Keith with the same scowl as he folded his arms. “What do you want?” he huffed.

“I came to apologise,” Keith said outright, keeping his yellow gaze steady with Lance. It was so intense that Lance occasionally had to look away.

Fidgeting, Lance tapped his foot against the floor, the sound making an echo around the room. “For what?” Lance asked in reply, wanting Keith to admit what he did, admit how he’d hurt Lance. He wasn’t sure if he wanted to forgive him just yet.

“For being a dick,” Keith merely offered in apology.

Mouth twisting, Lance turned his back on Keith and began to walk away, throwing a stern, “Good bye,” over his shoulder.

“Your Highness, wait!” Keith called out and Lance hated himself for stopping. He didn’t know why he was giving the boy so much attention when he’d known him barely three days. It wouldn’t take much for Lance to leave him in the entryway and forget about him altogether.

Yet Lance stayed.

And kept his back turned as Keith continued to speak.

“I treated you like shit, I know, and I’m sorry,” Keith admitted. “I shouldn’t have reacted the way I did, even if I was having a bad day - but that’s no excuse. Treating you that way as a royal - treating you that way as a  _ person  _ \- was so horrible of me.”

Lance slowly turned around, only slightly less angry than he had been a dobosh ago.

“For that, I am sorry, your Highness,” Keith expressed, meeting Lance’s lapis gaze immediately with the same intensity from before. “If you’ll let me, I’d like to continue working with you.”

Maybe it was because Lance was too forgiving that he turned fully and stepped towards Keith.

Perhaps he was too understanding.

Too sympathetic.

Too compassionate.

But Lance held his hand out to Keith all the same, muttering a monotonous “Thank you,” as Keith hesitated before kneeling before the Prince. Keith carefully took Lance’s hand and brushed his lips over the gloved knuckles, pledging his service to Lance once more.

Lance withdrew his hand, trying to make it look as though he wasn’t shaken by Keith’s kiss. Brushing by the other boy, Lance started heading for the door, eager to taste fresh air again. While yesterday had been a gift granted by his mother, he didn’t think it right to drag her away from her duties every time he wanted to go outside. Now that Keith was reinstated, even though Lance hadn’t totally forgiven him, his predicament had been made much easier to get through. “You’re lucky that I’m very forgiving,” Lance said, watching as the guards hauled the doors open to reveal the light of the sun. Turning back around, he tapped his forehead. “My dad? Not so nice.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” Keith replied as he paced to catch up to the Prince.

Now side by side, Lance watched Keith from the corner of his eye. There was a slight tension to his shoulders, and his jaw feathered every so often, indicating that he was grinding his teeth. Lance became curious about and asked, “So what if I got all annoying again?”

Keith didn’t answer.

“Would you pin me to the nearest solid object like before?”

Again, no answer.

“How strong are you anyway? Are Galra inherently strong? If not, how did you become so strong? Is there, like, a super awesome fighting technique that Galra children learn from a super young age that turns them into super soldiers?” A gasp. “Are  _ you  _ a super awesome super soldier?”

As Lance’s excitement grew, Keith’s tolerance thinned. The other boy began to grind his teeth more, and his eyes narrowed into a scowl. “You know, you’re really testing my patience,” he grit out.

The Prince stopped, twirling to face Keith with a smug smile. “What?” he asked rhetorically. “Can’t handle it? May I remind you that you practically  _ begged  _ to come work for me agai-”

“I didn’t  _ beg _ ,” Keith denied, stopping to fold his arms over his chest. His face told of his annoyance with his scowl and twisted mouth.

“Yeah, you did,” Lance sang, twirling away from his bodyguard.

“No, I didn’t.”

“Did.”

“Didn’t.”

“Did.”

“Didn’t.”

“Did~”

 

~

 

Keith couldn’t tell how much of it was real and how much was pretend.

Couldn’t tell how much he stood by Lance to protect him and how much he did it just to be close to someone.

He put himself in the role of bodyguard so much that he forgot that he was an assassin in disguise.

He trailed Lance as the Prince wandered about his city, greeting his citizens with big smiles and enthusiastic waves. As the sun made its journey across the sky, the pair found themselves sat on a bench before a small pond as Lance threw chunks of goo at the feathery creatures that glided across its waters.

From further lecturing from Shiro that morning, Keith had reluctantly met Lance at the palace, seeking forgiveness for before. In truth, Keith  _ did  _ want forgiveness. The guilt of hurting Lance like that ate him up, but the conflict of whether or not to carry out his orders tore him apart.

He watched Lance from the corner of his eye as he slouched on the bench. Compared to his sister, he wasn’t very regal and acted as any other teen would. However, Keith couldn’t relate; he was tense, rigid, and was easily angered. His life was dictated by rules.

In a way, so was Lance but the difference was; the Prince decided not to listen to his.

“Why did you forgive me?” Keith asked, turning fully to look at Lance.

The Prince continued to throw food at the creatures (he found that if he stopped they would flare their purple feathers and snap their sharp beaks at them) yet he spoke with candor. “I wanted out,” he said simply. “Without you, there was no way that my dad would let me out again. Not that I told him what you did anyway,” he added.

This had Keith confused. “No one else could escort you outside? And you didn’t tell the king? Why?”

Lance ran out of food to feed the creatures so he brought his attention down to his lap  where he fiddled with the fabric of his royal garb. He wore a lot of blue today, with little accents of gold and pink, but this outfit was slightly more muted compared to what Keith had seen the Prince wearing before.

“My Ma took me out yesterday like a mother/son bonding thing,” Lance admitted. “She’s a voltron paladin so, technically, she’s qualified to protect me,” he elaborated. “But her job means that she’s not home very often. She’s out there, defending the universe, but she comes back when she can.”

“So without her or me,” Keith filled in the gaps, “you’re stuck.”

The Prince nodded.

“What about the Princess?” Keith asked. “Can’t she go out as well?”

Lance shook his head. “No, not really, but she doesn’t really leave the castle often anyway. She mainly just helps our father with all that royal junk when he’s away being a paladin.”

“And you have no taste for that,” it was more of an observation than a question.

A smile appeared on the Prince’s lips as he looked up at Keith, a slight furrow in his brow. “You sure are asking a lot of questions, huh?” he mocked.

“I’m bonding with you,” Keith merely offered.

Lance snorted.

“What? We may be stuck with each other a long time, why  _ not  _ get to know you?” Keith didn’t know why he was saying these things. The Prince would be dead soon, by his bodyguard’s hands, and Keith would have done a great deal of assistance to King Zarkon and his plans.

It would be best not to form attachments.

Yet something inside him rebelled.

The Prince studied Keith with his lapis eyes before answering, “Alright, I’ll answer your question, but you have to answer three of mine.”

A creature quacked from the pond, growing restless now its food supply was gone.

“Three? Why three?”

“Because,” Lance offered. “You asked-” he counted on his fingers, “like, a billion of me.” He raised his eyebrow at his bodyguard. “So, just answer my questions, kay?”

Keith merely offered a nod, not willing to test the Prince’s logic.

“To answer  _ your  _ question,” Lance started, then leaned back on the bench. He looked into the distance, eyes growing unfocused. “I’m the second prince. My purpose is to be the contingency in case something happens to Allura. Can you really blame me if that’s not the life I want for myself? I don’t want that responsibility, I don’t want to be bound to a throne. Don’t get me wrong, I love my people just as much as they love me, but I can’t see myself ruling them.”

Keith was silent a while, digesting this new information. He couldn’t help reevaluating his  _ own _ life. What did he want? Where did he want to go? Who did he want to be?

He blew out a breath through his nose.

Shaking off the awkwardness he created, Lance now said, “Time for my questions!”

Keith tensed slightly, then forced himself to relax, hoping that Lance didn’t notice him flinch. “What do you want to know?” he forced out as casually as possible.

Humming to himself, the Prince watched Keith and the bodyguard tried not to fidget beneath his gaze. After another minute of thinking of a question, Lance asked, “What’s that knife at your hip?”

“Hmm? Oh,” Keith processed, retrieving the blade from its sheath. He presented it to the Prince as he answered his question. “It’s been with me ever since I was younger. I got it when I turned ten years old, it was...a rite of passage.”

Lance considered the knife, appreciating its design. He touched his fingers to the sigil on the hilt as it pulsed with purple light. “That mark; it’s-”

“The Blade of Marmora,” Keith named, withdrawing the knife.

He didn’t meet Lance’s eyes as the Prince made the connections to the names being thrown around, the supposed terror attacks and supposed life attempt. “Aren’t those the guys that tried to kill me?” he asked, moving slightly away from Keith.

“Yes,” Keith lied in confirmation. “They’re a group that opposes the Galra. I was born into their regime but was rescued by King Zarkon’s forces, I don’t like to associate with the Blade anymore,” he said truthfully, returning the knife to its sheath. He sat forward, leaning his elbows against his knees, fidgeting with his hands.

“Then why keep the blade?” Lance asked.

Keith considered the question and said without hesitation, “Sentimental value. It’s the only connection to my parents.”

“Do you know if they’re still alive?”

Keith stood and stretched. The sun was dipping towards the horizon and it was time that Lance should be getting back to the castle where he would be safe. From Keith. “Can’t answer that,” he replied, his tone lighter. “Your three questions are up.”

“What? No!” Lance answered and furrowed his brow, trying to add up his questions. “That’s not fair!”

Keith merely smirked at the Prince. It wasn’t as if he _didn’t_ want to lay himself bare for Lance, to confide in someone else apart from Shiro for once. He wanted to tell the Prince about the massacre on one of the Blade’s bases. He wanted to tell him of the merciless murder of several agents, of how they took several of the adults as prisoners and the children for reconditioning, of how Keith had been singled out for his exceptional ability in combat and was forced to work as Zarkon’s assassin. He wanted to tell Lance that he didn’t know where his parents were, and that he didn’t even know if they were still alive.

Zarkon had taken so much from Keith that he didn’t know right from wrong.

But Lance…

Lance…

He knew that he couldn’t kill Lance.

But Lance would still die.

“Come on,” Keith prompted, mentally shaking himself out of his dark thoughts. “We should go before the bird things get physical ‘cause we can’t feed them.”

Wary, Lance stood and inched around the bench to join Keith on the walk back to the castle. Now in the clear, he mused, “I didn’t realise your services extended to protection from ducks.”

“As much as I’d like to see you get bitten by a...duck, I still have to do my job, unfortunately,” Keith played.

Lance looked over to his bodyguard, a smile on his face as he echoed, “Unfortunately.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I very much hope you enjoyed this chapter, and kudos and comments are always appreciated!
> 
> You can follow me on tumblr @black-paladin-princess-allura and I always try to update fics every weekend!
> 
> Thanks,  
> Rae~


	6. Day Six

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey guysssss! thanks so much for all the good luck wishes for my exams and appreciation for the previous chapter! my exams aren't until next month but i'm just trying to prepare for when i do disappear off the internet for revision purposes! but i hope i'll be able to get another chapter up next week as well because i enjoy writing it as much you like reading it! i want to know how everything plays out (ofc i have an ending in mind but im excited to /get there/ too) so again - maybe another chapter next weekend!!
> 
> anyways, enjoy~

“Do you really need a bodyguard to do...What even are you doing?”

Lance was stretched out on the floor, his limbs at odd angles while he breathed deeply as per instruction from the woman leading the group of alteans. She spat out strange mantras with her serene voice like “let the energy flow through you” and “think positive thoughts!”

Such things weren’t prominent in galra culture; a race built on strength and fear. So it was almost natural for Keith to consider this pastime to be frivolous. But the Prince was very much enjoying this from the way he listened to the instructor to the smirks he cracked when he felt Keith staring. To the bodyguard’s shock, the boy was very flexible, stretching and curling into positions thought to be impossible judging by Lance’s physique. It all made Keith blush.

Cracking an eye open, Lance finally deigned to answer Keith’s question. “It’s yoga,” he elaborated. “And it’s not as if I need you  _ here,  _ you can just wait outside if you find me to be too distracting.” The Prince stuck out his tongue at that.

Keith scowled to cover up his furious blush and looked away, further punctuating his position as grumpy bodyguard. He lurked at the back of the studio in the corner, again emphasized by his dark clothing, and Lance posed on a mat not too far away from him in the final row. There were several other alteans doing similar things on other mats and they all varied in competence at this so called “yoga.” Obviously, Lance looked to be one of the best in the group, carrying out the leader’s instructions to near perfection, and Keith once again found himself entranced.

Now, the Prince stood on his hands, with his legs poised in the air. While this was something that Keith found easy, it was strange to see someone else - namely Lance - imitating the same position. 

But Keith knew he could do it better.

There were a few empty mats dotted about the room where the class hadn’t reached its full capacity. Lance was mainly on his own as the mats around him had been vacated when they first got here for fear that Keith would assume their previous occupants were a threat. While the Prince was much loved by his people and was occasionally ogled from time to time, Keith’s presence in the room had acted as a deterrent regarding Lance.

Keith removed the knife belt from his waist, tossing it to the floor with a clunk. This earned him a few curious looks, but they were scared away by Keith’s scowl as he stripped his tunic and removed the various armour pieces from his arms and  legs. Soon he was only soon there in his black suit that covered his fingers to his toes, and covered a portion of his neck. While is was fairly plain, it was also decorated with little galra markings here and there, but like this he was allowed freedom to move - and beat Lance at “yoga”.

“Mind if I join?” he asked the instructor.

“Of course,” she chimed. “All minds are welcome on the journey to enlightenment.”

Keith repressed his snort and took up his position next to Lance.

“Finally decided to give in, huh?” he smirked.

Keith grumbled imitating the position of the instructor at the front. It was a simple stretch of the legs still he cursed himself for not properly warming up, but such were the trials of rivalry.  “If only to beat you at this stupid game,” he replied.

“It’s not a-” Lance started, then his face changed, taking on a more boyish grin. “What makes you think you can beat me?” he challenged.

_I have been trained to be an assassin all my life_ , Keith answered internally, _what makes_ _you think_ you _can beat_ me _?_

“There are many things about galra culture you don’t know about,” he said instead.

“Like what?” Lance asked, but there was no answer. “ _ Like what? _ ”

For the most part, Keith kept perfect form, but Lance was also very good at keeping his balance and posture straight. Despite the rivalry, though, the instructor was not at all fazed by the supposedly heated battle going on towards the back of the group.

Then came the couples yoga. As soon as the instructor announced it, Keith’s head shot up and he could feel a heat rise to his face as the rest of the class paired up with each other.

Lance was sat back on his hands and he nibbled on his lip as he considered everyone getting into position, not even stirred by the prompt for added intimacy. “I’m topping,” he said, looking over to Keith with an almost unnoticeable gleam in his eye.

“What!?” Keith blanched, falling backwards.

“I said I’m on top,” Lance reiterated, giving a pointed look to the other participants.

Keith followed his gaze and now he understood. The pairs were crouched over one another, with one folded facing the floor, and the other imitating the same position atop them. Immediately, Keith thought of what would happen; the sensation of having Lance so close, feeling the breath on the back of his neck, hands touching.

Keith looked away and ran a hand through his hair. Since that day he...attacked...the Prince, Keith hadn’t been able to touch Lance. He didn’t know why but it just felt... _ weird _ being close enough to touch. He felt as though if they ever did, he would flinch away, and Keith imagined the look of hurt on Lance’s face if he ever were to flinch from his touch.

Keith wouldn’t be able to bear seeing that hurt.

“I’d rather not,” Keith said instead, once again donning his grumpy facade.

Once Keith got up and stepped away to retrieve all his things in the corner of the room, he saw from the corner of his eye an altean scooting over to Lance now that Keith was gone. He snorted under his breath and started to put the rest of his uniform on.

Stupid Lance.

Stupid Yoga.

~

All Lance could truly remember from that yoga class was that the entire time he was screaming. Not so much outwardly, but a little voice in his head would scream while he flirted and teased. He was never usually this bold, that little voice had practically drowned his mind the previous occasions. But now? Lance felt a bit more confident about himself. If only for a couple flirtatious lines of which he didn’t even know were understood by their recipient.

The thing was; Lance didn’t know what he was doing.

His attitudes towards Keith were a mess right now. Caught between hating him for being so damn rude and hurtful and liking him for his sarcasm and the tender looks that came onto his face when he thought Lance wasn’t looking.

To be short; Lance didn’t know if he was flirting out of genuine interest or rather just for the thrill of it.

He walked side by side with his bodyguard now, slightly sweaty and in dire need of a shower. They had just got back to the castle and now they walked through its halls, yet Lance wasn’t sure why Keith was still hanging at his side. Needless to say, he kinda liked the attention, but he had a feeling that the bodyguard’s mind was...absent.

“What are you thinking about?” Lance asked.

“The sweet release of death,” Keith replied too quickly.

“Is being my bodyguard really that shitty?” the Prince poked, a grin on his face.

But Keith took it seriously, stopping mid-step and turning back towards Lance, a crease between his brows. “No,” he said softly, “Not anymore.”

Before he could think too much about Keith’s actions, Lance waved him off and continued walking down the hall. But when he turned around the corner, he froze.

He saw Allura walking towards him, but she was distracted by the man walking next to her. She giggled at something he said and when Lance turned to look at her companion, he was surprised to find Shiro, the galra emissary, talking and laughing with her. They passed a bed of flowers decorating a window and Shiro plucked one from the soil, offering it to the Princess. Face twisting, Allura first reprimanded him for taking the flower but then a slight blush touched her cheeks and she accepted the flower, bringing it to her nose to smell its fragrance.

Her eyes rose and she found Lance at the end of the hallway. “Ah, Lance!” she called, hurrying her pace to reach him. “I’ve been looking for you,” she added.

“I’ve been at yoga class,” Lance explained.

“That ended two hours ago,” Allura deadpanned.

“He wanted to walk home,” Keith said from behind Lance, taking up his position against the wall. “But he stopped halfway for icecream.”

Lance spun around. “And I bought you some too, didn’t I?”

They stared at each other for a minute, Keith’s expression unreadable while Lance’s was a challenge. Then Keith snorted, the only signal that he conceded.

Satisfied, Lance turned back to his sister, an eyebrow raised. “What’s up?”

“Oh, you know. Brother/sister bonding time,” Allura said hastily, gesturing flippantly. If Lance had been anyone but Allura’s half brother, he probably wouldn’t have picked up on her nervous ticks. They were very subtle; the twinkle of her eyes, the dusting of a blush, her too-light tone.

Lance didn’t know if the two galra in the hallway understood the Princess’ slight nervousness, but he played it off as casually as he could. “Yeah, sure. Just let me get cleaned up.”

“I’m afraid I’ll have to take my leave now, Princess,” Shiro interrupted, turning to Allura. He took her hand and ducked to ghost a kiss over her knuckles. “I will see you tomorrow?” he asked as a way of goodbye.

Allura dipped her head as Shiro walked away. “Absolutely,” she replied.

With Keith in tow, the emissary left, and Lance felt weird now that his bodyguard was gone, weird without Keith’s presence at his side.

He turned to his sister. “So what did you-?”

Suddenly, he was grabbed by the shoulders as Allura loomed over him, a furious blush on her cheeks and panicked eyes. “I need help!” she hissed.

“With what?” Lance squeaked, crushed by her grip.

She released him and started pacing the width of the hallway. “Shiro asked me to dinner,” she confessed with disbelief.

“He did what!”

She nodded. “And I have no idea what to do. Do you even know how long it’s been since I went on a date?” Lance opened his mouth. “Don’t answer that!” She was pulling at her hair now. “What do I do? What do I wear?” She grabbed him again, pressing her nose to his in urgency. “Lance, help me!”

“Hey, hey, hey!” Lance hushed. “Calm down! I’ll help you!”

Allura gasped, letting her brother go. “You will!?” Stars twinkled in her eyes as a smile broke out on her face.

“Ye-” Lance started but was immediately hauled down the hallway towards Allura’s room.

Needless to say, the room was an absolute tip. Clothes and shoes and accessories littered the floor. Her vanity table was riddled with makeup and jewellery, and now Lance could understand her panicked state. While Lance seemed cool about arranging dates (that very rarely followed through), he, too, fell into fits of panic when preparing for said dates.

“Okay,” Lance said, assessing the situation with folded arms, a finger tapping his chin. “Let’s start with; what do you want from this dinner date?”

Allura stood there, staring at the floor, for about a minute before she screamed, “I don’t know!” Her panic increased and she threw herself onto her bed which, too, was littered with items of clothing. Finally, she calmed down more and flipped over to stare at the ceiling. “I’m sorry you have to deal with this, Lance,” she sighed. “Normally I would have asked my mother but…” she fell silent.

Allura didn’t have to finish her sentence. It was just over three years since Fala, First Princess Consort, passed away. Lance remembered her as a kind and caring woman, plagued by an incurable disease that kept her on bedrest for a majority of her life. She loved Lance and Allura almost equally, just much as she had loved Alfor and Lance’s mother as well.

Swallowing down the sadness, Lance stepped around the room, first picking up a dress of deep scarlet, then a pair of silver shoes, then a sparkling necklace. He held them up to his sister with a small grin, testing her reaction. “How about this?”

She got up, swinging her legs over the bed. She considered it before taking the clothes from him. “I’ll definitely try it,” she replied, with a smile.

“And if you don’t like it, I can always find something else for you.”

“Sounds like a plan.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thanks so much for reading! this chapter was pretty personal to me in that keith's affliction in not being able to touch lance is something that i struggle with too with the people around me! so to write that into a fic was very interesting to me as i haven't come across anyone else who struggles with this kind of thing, i also thought it was a very real reaction to having a crush, even if he doesn't really know it yet~
> 
> you can find me on tumblr @black-paladin-princess-allura (i change my url a lot sorr)!  
> thanks,  
> Rae


	7. Day Seven

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WELL it's been a while, huh? A lot of things have happened since I last updated like my exams and me finishing my first year of college and me getting a job so shit's been a bit hectic and i haven't been organised enough to write this goddamn chapter!  
> All excuses aside: WE HAVE ANOTHER CHAPTER LADS!!  
> It's like 4000 words long and I'm dead right now but i hope you enjoy it and I'll eventually get to a more organised writing/posting schedule rip!  
> Anyways, I hope you enjoy this chapter, it's not very klance-y lbr but it wouldn't be slowburn if they got together within a week, huh?
> 
> Enjoy~

There was a terror attack on one of the terminals orbiting Altea.

Like most terminals, it was populated by a range of species that were apart of the Galactic Alliance, so all ambassadors, emissaries, and any other important folk were called to a meeting within Altea’s capital palace. This included the Paladins of Voltron who had been called back from a mission early to deal with the aftermath of the attack.

It had been a huge explosion, in one of the terminal’s generators, causing the whole structure to implode, taking its population of two billion with it. At first, everyone simply thought it to be a spike in power that overloaded the generator, yet diagnostics that were salvaged from the attack showed no problems with the internal power core. The only conclusion they could make, as any grieving nation would, was that the generator was rigged to blow by malicious forces.

Lance had been outside when it happened. He remembered looking up into the blue sky and then seeing a bright flash of light as the terminal was obliterated. He remembered the clouds of fire. He remembered the large pieces of shrapnel that were ripped apart in the explosion. He remembered imagining the screams of those dying within the terminal, and then he remembered the screams that surrounded him as everyone stopped to look at the terrible blast in the sky.

The emergency meeting was held deep into the night.

Lance dashed throughout the castle, looking for his sister as everyone was running this way and that. Teams were assembling towards the wings of the castle where the Lions of Voltron where returning. However, all Lance could concentrate on in that moment was a familiar head of orange hair as he followed Coran to wherever the meeting was held.

He followed him to the end of a hallway and called his name before the King’s adviser could disappear through a set of double doors; the war room.

“Your Highness,” Coran greeted, albeit hastily. “Is something the matter?”

“Yeah,” Lance replied, a little out of breath but his gaze was determined. “I need to go in that room.”

Coran’s expression turned sympathetic. “I’m sorry, Lance,” - he only used the Prince’s name when he had to give bad news - “but you’re going to have to sit this one out.”

“Coran, wait!” Lance exclaimed but the adviser had already disappeared behind the door. Several people pushed past him to get through, many of whom Lance knew only vaguely so there was no point in trying to convince them to let him in, and he wasn’t going to pull the Prince Card. No, hopefully Allura would get him in, or even his ma.

As if suddenly summoned by his thoughts, Veela came walking around the corner with the rest of her team, the King leading them all in his shining yellow armour. They were all a marvel, dressed in their gleaming armour, and the childlike wonder Lance often experienced in their presence resurfaced. His mother looked very much like she belonged with the paladins with her blue armour shining and her helmet tucked beneath her arm - no, Lance could never see her away from the team. Even when Lance was little, she was never at the palace for more than a month.

Busy talking to a beautiful woman in the green paladin armour, Veela didn’t notice Lance until he called out her title and tugged on her sleeve, something he hadn’t done since he was very little.

“Lance! You’re safe!” she cried, breaking away from her previous conversation to embrace her son.

“I’m glad you are too,” Lance breathed into his mother’s shoulder, drawing himself away at the urgency of the situation, even if he did crave his mother’s embrace. “Can I come with you into the war room?” He tried to keep the desperation from his voice.

Opening her mouth to speak, Veela thought better of it and pursed her lips, regarding her son sympathetically. “You know I can’t let you in there, sweetie,” she replied after a while, reaching gloved hand up to touch Lance’s cheek. “You are far too young.”

“They are my people too, Ma!” he argued, not meaning to shout it.

Alfor had stopped leading the paladins and turned to see what all the commotion was about. He looked weary, more so than usual, and Lance knew he often experienced anxiety when leaving Allura to govern in his stead - but he’d never seen him this exhausted.

Lowering his voice, Lance said, “I need to be in there, Ma. Please,” he begged. “I can help.”

“Can you?” The voice boomed, and did not come from his mother’s lips. Lance looked up to see Alfor staring right at him with his weary blue eyes just as he spoke again, “What can you do to help?” he asked harshly. “You are a _boy,_ Lance. What can a boy do help two billion grieving families? What can a boy do to quell the turmoil between species? What can a boy do to hunt down the monsters who did this?”

He did not shout; yet to Lance’s ears he might as well have, his words still stung, made him feel even more useless. Before he could spiral again, Lance exhaled a deep breath and held his father’s gaze. _They’re my people, too,_ he thought. He did not grieve any less for them even if he did not know them.

The King left his son standing outside in the hallway while the rest of his team filed into the war room. Lingering, Veela regarded her son sorrowfully and touched her fingers to his cheek, then she was gone too, jogging to catch up.

A shiver passed through Lance and a large presence appeared at his side. He looked over cautiously and found the abyssal armour of the black paladin gleaming over the body of the Galra leader, King Zarkon. Lance’s mouth went dry, all potential thoughts and words retreating at the presence of the figure of majesty. He knew the King and his father were good friends, why else would Alfor had given the Galra King the leadership of Voltron? Yet his presence was so...overwhelming? Commanding? When he was a room it was hard not to chance at least one glance at him - that was all Lance could do to describe the King.

His voice was deep when he spoke, vibrating into Lance’s very being. “Do not worry, my boy,” he rumbled. “We all get what we deserve eventually.”

The Altean Prince wasn’t too sure what to make of the King’s words, but before he could ask, the King left and disappeared through the doors. He could hear the muffled shouts coming from behind those doors - they taunted him, teasing him with their incoherent sentences and disjointed arguments.

A pair of footsteps sounded from down the hallway, gradually getting louder. Listening harder, Lance heard three sets of footsteps, all hurried; one clip-clopping against the floor, another more sure-footed set, and another hushed pair that were barely making a noise.

They all came around the corner, and the first person Lance saw was his sister, the Princess, as she walked with purpose and fury towards him and the war room behind him. She was still clad in her scarlet dress from her dinner date with Shiro, a dark expression on her face. Said dinner date was strutting grimly behind her, looking formal in his military dress. _Of course,_ Lance thought, _they were supposed to be on their date._ But then the attack happened, and they were both called to duty.

Behind them both, trailing like a feline predator stalking its prey, was Keith. He was clad in his usual black suit, with various wraps of purple and red fabrics circling his torso like a strange form of armour. At his hip was his ever-present dagger from the Blade of Marmora Lance wasn’t sure how to feel about his presence here.

Turning to his sister, who was still charging down the hall, Lance started, “Allura, can-”

She stopped and turned and blinked, as if only realising that he was here. Then her expression became that of the Princess and not of his sister. “You know the rules, Lance. Stay out here,” she commanded, and it felt as though he was hit in the chest. His whole family had been against him - he just wanted to see, just wanted to know what was going on.

Without another word, Allura opened the door and exited the hallway, Shiro not too far behind after commanding a “You wait here, too,” to his bodyguard. The door shut behind the both of them and once again, Lance was plunged into silence. It was like being underwater, the world above being drowned out and absorbed by the fluid atoms. The voices had quietened now that Allura had joined the fray - and Lance felt oddly proud at how she could command a room so easily.

He was concentrating so hard on the voices beyond the door that he flinched when Keith spoke from behind him. “You look like you wanna go in there,” he said.

“Wow, gold star for you, Captain Obvious,” Lance spat.

Whether or not he was affected by Lance’s venom, Keith didn’t show it, and asked, “Why do you want to be in there so bad? I thought you didn’t want to be a prince.”

Lance exhaled an agitated breath. He was already struggling to hear what was going on and now Keith was yacking away, making it even harder. With a roll of his eyes, he turned and regarded the other boy. “Don’t you?” he replied, flailing a hand at the doors. “They’re in there making the decisions, they’re the ones with all the information, and I can’t stand being ignored and pushed to the side while my people are scared out of their minds.” He started to lose momentum, the anger fading from his voice. “Something like this hasn’t happened to us in millennia.” His voice was sadder now. “We’re a peaceful society, who would do this to us?”

Keith leaned back against the wall, his eyes cast to the floor. He was silent for so long that Lance thought he wouldn’t answer, but then he spoke up with, “It has to be the Blade of Marmora.” He drew a deep breath. “They want to cause chaos and panic, they want their voices heard.”

Studying Keith once again, something seemed..off. As if he was saying these words but...not really. They were almost monotonous, and they seemed sad too. Lance couldn’t quite put his finger on it.

They locked eyes, then Keith’s eyes drifted upwards, and a smirk pulled at his lips. “You wanna get into that meeting?” he asked and Lance nodded. He followed Keith’s gaze and found an access shaft, and when he turned back around, they both wore matching smirks.

 

~

 

“Hey, move over!”

“No, _you_ move over!”

“ _Lance,_ I swear on the _stars_!”

“Lance? What happened to calling me “your Highness” with your grouchy sarcasm?”

Keith did not reply, his gaze fixed on the scene down below. The meeting had quieted since the deafening row that had been echoing up through the vents when the boys first set up here. They were perched in the ceiling vents high above the war room, peeking through a tiny grate at the meeting comprised of every species, every political somebody, and Lance’s family.

The Prince still felt hurt by his family’s rejection from this important event. So he continued to watch the talks guiltily, he was doing this against his father’s wishes after all. Despite being so removed from his father’s lessons in diplomacy, Lance could name all the major players in this room. Queen Khari of Olkarion, King Zarkon of the Galra, Uruix the Prime of Taujeer. There were so many others Lance rattled off in his head and he noted the tensions between certain species, knowing that they’d get into a disagreement at some point.

The room itself was circular, with a large round table occupying the centre. Though the table was covered by a dusty sheet due to lack of use, Lance knew the table was used to holographically project Altean Space in a time when Altea experienced a great deal of conflict. Now the thing lay useless in the centre of the room while the delegates of each race discussed matters over and around it. Benches were raised and raked from the centre, each race having a bench or fraction of the seating assigned to them based on delegation size. Unsurprisingly, the biggest delegations belonged to Altea and the Galra.

As he studied the room, Lance’s attention was soon snatched by none other than Shiro as he began to speak, his voice low and authoritative. “We of the Galra have struggled for decades with the opposing forces of the Blade of Marmora,” he informed the collective. “And we have suspicions that this sudden hostility towards Altea is due to our two species’ relationship through Voltron.”

“How can you be so sure?” a delegate with yellow skin and purple eyes accused.

Shiro turned towards them but it was Alfor that spoke. “Because it was the Blade of Marmora that attempted to kill my son.”

The collective began to whisper, then those whispers turned to full on shouts. Lance felt uncomfortable at the sudden amount of attention on him, even if he was securely hidden in the vents.

“Why didn’t Altea inform us of this!?” someone shouted.

“Quiet, please!” Alfor placated, but it wasn’t working. Everyone was still shouting at each other, at Altea, at Alfor.

Except the Galra delegation; they were sat stoically in their seating fraction. Lance frowned and his eyes found his mother sat with the Altean delegation, her lips were pursed and she was looking down at her hands. Seven days ago she had been away from Altea on a mission, had no way of knowing if her son was safe, had no way of stopping it. Feeling her guilt like a pulse, Lance’s frown deepened.

“QUIET!”

The room was plunged into silence.

It was so loud and sudden that both Keith and Lance flinched.

Every gaze turned to the source of the command, to the girl in scarlet with flowing white hair and deep brown skin, a golden tiara on her head marking her as royalty. Allura’s crystal blue eyes were set into a scowl and her voice was that of a queen as she spoke to the collective.

“Up until today, we thought this was a war with Altea. _My own brother_ was almost a casualty in this act of terrorism. Then today, this terrorism is brought to another level. Not only has this group taken Altean lives, but they have taken lives from every inch of this universe.” Her gaze fell to every single delegate in that room. “When the time for grieving is over, they will feel the full might of Voltron. They will feel our pain, they will feel our loss, they will feel every stab of agony we have endured. They have not won, they will not win, not as long as Voltron stands. Not as long as _we_ stand!”

There was many beats of silence as Allura finished speaking. Lance could see the sweat shining on her hairline, her jittery hands that she planted on the desk before her, her gritted teeth.

Then the room was full of noise. It started with a clap, then two, then three, then too many to count - as many delegates stood dumbfounded at Allura’s speech.

But she was not finished, and she opened her mouth again, the room once again falling quiet.

“When my brother was threatened, we tried to minimise the damage,” she went on. “There was no official statement, and the witness accounts merely faded into rumours, but they are not rumours, and after today we cannot cover this up. There is a genuine threat to Altea - maybe even the whole universe - and it is time that my people know.”

Lance felt a swell of pride for his sister in that moment, but another voice burst that bubble. He wasn’t quite sure who it was, but the intonation was of the Taujeerians. “How do we know that this is not another isolated attack on Altea? Are the victims of this attack merely casualties of circumstance? How do we know that it was the Blade of Marmora who did this?” they asked.

Allura opened her mouth, but no words came out. Thankfully, Shiro jumped in to answer the question. “We’ve been in conflict with the Blade for a while now, and we know their patterns. They’ll want to cause chaos and panic, and they’ll want their voices heard,” he stated. Something twinged in Lance’s brain, but he wasn’t sure why, and he watched the collective take in Shiro’s words. “You may be thinking that this has nothing to do with you, that this is a problem for Altea and the Galra,” he continued. “But who’s to say they won’t come after _your_ nations, _your_ children, _your_ people, when they get bored?” His voice grew malicious as he spoke. “The Blade of Marmora are disgusting, sadistic, and without honour.”

Lance felt Keith tense beside him.

“They take our children and brainwash them with _their_ lies to fight _their_ side of the war.”

A sudden intake of breath.

“They massacre us because of what we believe.”

A hiss.

“Families ripped apart.”

Metal scrapping against metal.

“Innocents slaughtered.”

A growl.

“And for what?”

Shiro glanced up then - to the vent, as if confident of who was hiding up there - and smirked.

“Because they don’t agree with our system of government?”

Keith was gone. He disappeared back into the maze of access shafts and Lance scrambled to follow him, tutting at all the dirt he was getting on his clothes.

“Keith!” he shouted as he crawled, trying to remember which way they came from, and found Keith’s movements coming from the same direction. He was less soundless now that he was agitated. But agitated wasn’t the right word for it, and Lance could sense the fury radiating from his bodyguard. This was worse than the day in the restaurant.

Lance tumbled out of the panel in the wall and scrambled up to see Keith nearing the doors to the war room. “Keith, don’t!”

But it was too late, the doors swung open and Keith strode into the room. So Lance had no other choice to follow. Or he told himself that, at least.

The room, which had previously been discussing the terror of the Blade, fell silent as Keith strode in.

“What are you doing here?” asked Shiro, an almost incomprehensible quirk to his lips if Lance had not been looking for it. Shiro already seemed sketchy as soon as Lance met him but now he _really_ smelt something fishy about the guy. “I told you to wait outside.”

Keith was about to reply, but Alfor suddenly cut in, his gaze fixed on Lance. His crystal eyes were full of so much fatherly disapproval as he boomed. “Lance, you shouldn’t be in here! And you!” He turned his gaze on Keith. “You were supposed to keep him out!”

Lance could only other an apologetic shrug but Keith’s next words shocked him. “I’ve come here to give a witness statement.” He looked straight at Shiro as he said this.

Once more, the room erupted into whispers, but Lance was at least glad they weren’t about him, even if he did feel bad that they were about Keith instead. Lance himself was curious about what Keith had to say. No doubt it would be about his own relation to the Blade.

“For those of you who don’t know,” Keith started, hands balled into fists at his side. “I am a loyal servant of his Majesty King Zarkon as well as the new bodyguard of Prince Lance of Altea. I have been a member of the Galra since I was very young, but before this, I was born of the Blade of Marmora.” As he said this, he pulled out the blade from his hip, and the collective gasped. Lance saw Keith run his tongue over his lip and his feet were planted firmly on the floor. The collective whispered amongst themselves, and Lance felt a dash of sympathy for the boy on the receiving end of the rumours and theories.

“I was born into a cult of savages,” Keith continued, but again, something about his voice seemed off. “Raised without honour, without mercy, and they turned me into a machine to fight for them.” His gaze was level with Shiro’s. “But I was saved, by the might of the Galra who taught me right from wrong, that the Blade of Marmora are full of lies,” his eyes found King Zarkon’s, “that I was their pawn.” Lance was still trying to detect the hint of emotion in Keith’s voice as his bodyguard cast his gaze over the collective.

Repeating the words in his head, Lance tried to make sense of it all. Then Keith spoke again.

“Now I serve my King, and I use my skills to protect instead of harm.”

That was it.

Sarcasm.

In one terrible revelation, Lance was so much more confused about Keith. He didn’t want to know the true nature of Keith’s last words, and his brain was all scrambled. _What does this mean!?_ his mind screamed.

He watched Keith turn to Alfor. “I now protect your son, because he is important to you, to Altea. He is smart, and kind, and the whole universe loves him. And the Blade of Marmora know this, so they’ll hit Altea at it’s heart.” He pointed a finger at Lance and he felt all the eyes that came with it. “At its Prince.”

Swallowing, Lance stood straighter, putting on a front for the crowd. He didn’t know why Keith was saying these things, what was the point? More shocking, Lance could not detect that same sarcasm, it sounded genuine now, and he did not know why.

“As victims of the Blade, we both should have been included at this meeting,” Keith continued. “His Highness more so than me, because these are his people too that he’s lost.”

Lance nodded sincerely.

“He is too young,” a voice boomed. Alfor.

“Not too young to get shot, Father,” Lance replied with venom, surprised by his own silver tongue.

The King sucked in a breath, but said nothing more on the subject. Breaking his gaze from his father’s, Lance felt another pair of eyes on him and he turned to see Keith watching him. _For once,_ Lance thought, _there is no contempt in his eyes._

 

~

 

There was a knock at the door and Lance rubbed his eyes. He was so, so, so tired, the meeting dragging on well into the night.

When he found the energy to get up and open his bedroom door, he didn’t expect to see his father standing at the threshold. He was almost convinced to slam the door right in his face. But he didn’t, he instead opened the door wide open and went over to collapse on his bed once again. The King stood by the door awkwardly, and it was a strange sight. He always existed with a purpose, no position or stance made by accident. Yet here he was, looking uncomfortable for once.

“I came to apologise,” he finally said. “For keeping you away from the meeting.”

Lance didn’t say anything and continued to lie awkwardly on the bed, his mind still swimming with thoughts of Keith.

“You’re an adult now, I can see that, and while you may not want to be King someday - I believe you would make a good one if circumstance made it so,” Alfor continued morbidly. The only way Lance would be King was if something happened to Allura, or she abdicated her title. Lance hoped it wouldn’t come to that.

“Thank you for the sentiment,” Lance replied monotonously. “But don’t pretend to love me when we both know that I only exist to be the contingency plan.”

“Lance!”

The sudden shout made Lance flinch, but he tried to hold it in, tried to maintain his apathetic state.

Alfor walked over to him, kneeling before the bed to look his son in the eyes. Lance looked away. “Look at me?” the King asked gently. He did not command, like he did the delegates but hours ago. Sighing, Lance met his father’s gaze. “Veela and I made you out of love, not to be a substitute for your sister,” he pronounced, gaze never straying. “Fala, Veela and I loved you so much, and I wish Fala could still be with us to see what a fine young man you’ve become.”

The mention of Allura’s mother was jarring, but Lance remembered the tender looks, the gentle hands, the sweet smile. Fala was a beautiful woman, whom Lance’s birth mother and father loved dearly. He remembered the month after she died and silence that haunted the halls.

Alfor offered a small smile, testing the waters. “It must be that I don’t want my little boy to grow up just yet. Veela and I want to keep you safe from harm - you know this - especially since the incident last week.”

Lance nodded slightly. Once again, he was transported back to a simpler time and he felt a strong sense of nostalgia. “But I’m not a little kid anymore,” he said softly. “I can look after myself, now. And I have Keith, too,” he added.

His mouth becoming a grim line, Alfor warned, “Be careful with that one, my son. He looked just about ready to explode in that room.”

Too tired to protest, Lance nodded simply.

“It’s been a long day,” the King spoke up again, “so I’ll leave you to sleep.”

Lance’s eyes began to feel heavy, and the last thing he felt before he blacked out was his father’s mouth pressing a kiss onto his forehead.

“Well done, today.”

**Author's Note:**

> thanks for reading! x
> 
> you can find my tumblr @ryzaphelle and i usually update a fic every weekend
> 
> thanks again,  
> Rae~


End file.
